


Things You Said

by beb303



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-24 01:08:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4899700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beb303/pseuds/beb303
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short drabbles that take place after various moments on the show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> These are inspired by this post (http://everlastingphan.tumblr.com/post/114789651506/prompts-1-things-you-said-at-1-am-2-things). More chapters may be added as I write more of these prompts out. Enjoy!

“things you said when you thought I was asleep”

 

“Stiles?”

He hears a whisper trying to pull him out of his sleep, but he was on a bus for hours today and then he had to deal with a haunted motel and his best friend trying to kill himself and he saved more werewolves than he feels like counting, so excuse him for ignoring the whisper and chasing sleep. 

“Stiles.”

He knows the voice, and this time it’s accompanied by a poke, and he almost looks for the strength to fully wake up, he really almost does. But his stiff seat on the school bus suddenly feels like a cloud and he’s just so tired. Just this one time, she’s just going to have to figure it out without his help.

“Stiles… I’m naked. Allison is, too.”

This time he really, truly tries to open his eyes. He’s trying to fight the nothingness that’s so enticing but he’s _just so tired._

“Okay, that one was just a test.”

A test? Five more minutes. Just let him sleep for five more-

“Hey, you can’t do anything like that ever again. I know he’s your friend, but you’re my friend, too. You can’t just… There had to have been another way. We could have figured something out.”

For some reason, that wakes him up; not too much so that he feels guilty about keeping his eyes closed, but enough that he’s able to understand what Lydia is saying to him.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say that. Even though you’re asleep. Stiles… you’re asleep right?” Short pause. “Okay. I guess what I’m really saying is… Maybe _I_ can’t do anything like that ever again. What was I thinking? You can’t do anything like that again, because look at what it does to me. I was ready to go right with you, to risk everything just to protect you, you stupid, impulsive, overactive idiot.”

He hears shuffling and wonders if maybe she just wanted to whisper-yell at him. Maybe she just needed to get her anger out.

“No, that’s wrong of me. I’m not that person anymore. I know there probably wasn’t anything else you could’ve done today. I know I shouldn’t ask you to save your _brother_ in a different way, a way more convenient for me. That’s selfish. I’m glad you did it. I’m just… _terrified_.”

He wants to tell her it’s okay, that they’re all fine. He doesn’t know what to do. But just as he decides he needs to talk to her, she grabs his hand.

“Stiles… just don’t ever die, okay?”

He hears her sit back in her seat, and he wonders if the conversation really happened or if he just dreamed it. Either way, he silently promises her he won’t.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“things you said at 1am”

 

He isn’t sure why he called her, but as he sits on the steps out front of his house and sees Lydia’s headlights coming down the street, he’s grateful he did.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as she gets out of the car.

She sits next to him. “Don’t be. I just drive around. I can’t stand being in my bedroom anymore. I just wait for sleep, hour after hour.”

He nods. He understands.

“How’d you know I’d be awake, anyway?”

“I honestly don’t know. I just couldn’t lay there any longer, and for some reason, I thought maybe you’d be awake.”

Neither of them is saying anything, but he knows there’s more to it than just not sleeping. Stiles is pretending there isn’t a monster inside his head that he can’t control, and Lydia is pretending there aren’t any noises that are so loud to her they drown everything else out, but no one else hears a thing.

Suddenly she puts her head in her hands. “Do you remember that connection thing?”

“Yeah, like a tether.” How could he forget?

“It’s like a ticking,” she explains, even though he didn’t ask. Somehow, he knows what she’s talking about, though. “It just plays over and over and over. There’s a bang and some clicks and…” she cuts herself off and closes her eyes and shivers. “It’s like a five second song is playing on a loop. Is that what it’s like for you?”

“Kind of. That ticking… I can’t hear it, but I feel it. It’s all over my body. It’s like there’s a machine inside of me, and I can’t control it. I can’t make it stop.” Saying it aloud makes him feel kind of crazy, and though he probably doesn’t need to, he asks, “Can you like, not tell anyone about this?”

She picks her head up and smiles sarcastically. “That our minds are working against us to make our lives so miserable that we can’t even sleep to escape it? Yeah, that secret is safe with me.”

He laughs once even though nothing about this is funny. Lydia leans her head on his shoulder and he swears the ticking eases up.

“Are you scared?” she whispers. 

He wants to say no. He wants to be brave for her. But then, he thinks being honest might be even braver. “Yeah, I am. Are you?”

“Yes. Does it help to know that you’re not alone in this? That I feel it, too?”

“Yeah, it does.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“things you said when no one else was around”

 

They drive home in silence. Stiles wants to say something, _anything,_ but every time he opens his mouth, Lydia sighs or looks out the window and he thinks maybe after everything, she doesn’t want to talk.

They pull up to her house, and he gets out to walk her to the door. He never does that, but he thinks tonight they both need it.

“Hey, listen, that stuff with your grandma today… no one should have to hear-“

She turns suddenly, cutting him off. “You know what _your_ problem is? Two years ago you told me I didn’t care about getting hurt, but you know what? You care about getting hurt even less than I do.”

He isn’t expecting that. “I… Well, I-“

“I mean, today was awful. The thing with my grandma was a nightmare. But when we were tied up, and I couldn’t see you, _that’s_ what made it even worse. And you know what you did? You started taunting that psycho! And you yelled at him and he punched you and it’s like it didn’t even matter to you.”

“It _didn’t_ matter to me. He was threatening you! And I knew you were crying. What was I supposed to do?”

She steps up closer to him. “You’re supposed to just survive; just focus on yourself getting through it, and I’ll follow.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Stiles, he was willing to kill you today! You told me if I die, you’d be devastated, remember?”

“Yeah, I’d lose my mind. I remember.”

“Well, I don’t know if that’s true. You have Scott and his mom and your dad and Malia and a lot of people who could get you through it.”

He wants to tell her that’s not true. He could have a million people in the world helping him, but if anything happened to her, he’d be alone and hopeless. But she’s standing so close to him and tears are threatening to fall from her eyes and instead he just watches her.

“But me? You’re my best friend, Stiles. Do you know that? I can handle a maniac making me listen to a dumb recording only because I know that you’ll be around to hug me afterwards, or to make me laugh, or talk about stupid Star Wars. If you died, I would be _empty_ , I would… I would-“ 

He grabs her, pulls her to him and wraps his arms around her tightly so that maybe she stops thinking about anything. He puts his hand in her hair, and she rests her forehead on his shoulder.

“We’re both gonna be okay,” he tells her.

“I know.”

“And Star Wars is _not_ stupid.”

She laughs. “I know.”

  
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“things you said over the phone”

 

Stiles is laying in bed staring at the ceiling when his phone vibrates. He doesn’t bother checking the screen before he answers. He knows it could only be a handful of people. He almost just ignores it, knowing whoever is calling is probably about to tell him something awful has happened and he needs to meet them somewhere. But there’s that small chance, that 1% miniscule gamble, that it could be good news calling and maybe he’ll finally be able to fall asleep.

“Hello?”

“Are you alright?”

He smiled. It was the 1%. It was Lydia.

“What are you doing up?”

“I don’t know. I’m just like, laying here. I have a feeling.”

“Like a banshee feeling?” he asks, worried that maybe she is calling to tell him something awful.

“No,” she says simply, like it’s the most casual thing in the world. He imagines she’s doing her nails or absentmindedly drawing in her notebook. “More like a friend feeling; like a someone-I-care-about-was-acting-weird-today feeling.”

He sighs and rubs his eyes, suddenly wishing he’d never picked up the phone in the first place. “Lydia, everyone acts weird at Eichen House.”

He can practically hear her roll her eyes. “You said everything is not okay. You can’t expect me to just move on from that. You said this is all our fault.” 

“I should have said _my_ fault.” He rolls over onto his side and wonders when he started being able to get annoyed with Lydia Martin and when she started actually taking note of what he said. 

“Is this about your shoulder?”

“Go to sleep, Lydia.” He needs her to stop. He doesn’t want to talk about it or think about it. He needs it to go away.

“I _can’t_ ,” she says so desperately that he actually feels bad for her. He feels bad that she can’t sleep because of him. He doesn’t deserve having someone worry about him.

He rolls over onto his back, then sits up, then lays back down, then fluffs his pillow a few times, then lays back down. He wonders what she’s doing as she sits on the other end of the phone, patiently waiting for him to finally speak.

“Alright,” he says eventually. “Alright. Okay… I… I did something bad. Like, really bad. I don’t mean like, mischief night pranks on Coach, or sneaking out to see what kind of cool stuff my dad got called in to deal with. What I did is unforgiveable.”

There’s a long pause before he hears her quietly ask, “What did you do?”

“See, that’s the thing. I was prepared to never tell anyone. I guess I was gonna take it to the grave, or something like that. But then you call me at 3 in the morning all concerned, and it makes me want to tell you what I did, you know? Just get it out there so you can start hating me, and I can start getting used to it.” He says everything too fast, but she called him and she couldn’t just let it go and now he can’t stop.

“So do you want to tell me or not?”

“I _want_ to tell you, you know? I just don’t think I can. I think I’m supposed to tell Malia first.”

“Oh.” He doesn’t want to think about it too much, but he swears she sounds sad about that. But he shouldn’t care. He should have wanted it to be Malia calling him. He should have told Malia everything hours ago.

He wonders how many things the human brain can worry about, how many mistakes it can squeeze into itself, before it just like, combusts. He almost wants to ask Lydia. He knows she has the answer.

A long time passes with them just holding the phone up to their ears but not speaking. 

Finally, he hears, “Stiles?”

“Yeah, Lydia?” 

“Whatever it is… whatever you did… we can fix it, okay?”

He doesn’t believe her. He doesn’t believe it’s fixable or that she’d even want to try to fix it once she knew what he did. But he feels better when he hears her say it anyway.

“Goodnight, Lydia.”

“Goodnight, Stiles.”


	2. Chapter 2

“things you said while we were driving”

 

Stiles opened the door for her and then ran over to the driver’s side and jumped in probably too quickly. “Sorry I couldn’t get like, a limo and a driver or something-“

“Why would I need something like that to be pleased? I’m not some high-maintenance brat,” she snapped.

“Oh, no! No, I didn’t mean it like that. God, no. I just… you deserve to show up to formal in like, a freaking carriage, and I just have this ratty jeep.” He was talking too fast. He told himself to calm the hell down as he started the engine.

“Sorry,” she said quietly, and it was a few moments before she continued. “Listen, Stiles, it was very nice of you to offer to take me, and it was also nice of me to agree to go with you, but let’s just agree to get through these next few hours quickly and smoothly. My boyfriend broke up with me this week, so I’m not really in a good mood.”

It was a true testament to how much he put Lydia Martin on a pedestal that he thought it was endearing that she didn’t assume he knew about her break up just because she was so popular, which, incidentally, is exactly what happened.

He nodded and tried to think of something perfect to say but as he saw her looking down at her hands in her lap looking kind of sad, instead he just clenched the steering wheel and mumbled, “Jackson." 

“Yeah. It was really unexpected. I guess that’s why I snapped about the high maintenance thing. I don’t really know what I did to make him end it.”

She was talking in that way that made him think she wasn’t really paying attention to whom she was with and what she was saying, because normally she probably wouldn’t be telling him all of this, which is why he felt pretty good about muttering, “He dumped you because he’s a douchebag.”

He saw her head immediately turn towards him out of the corner of his eye, and he assumed that was her way of asking him to explain without actually having to utter the words. He wanted to scream at her that Jackson was using Allison as blackmail to try to get a werewolf bite; or that Scott had saved his life, and Jackson hadn’t even managed a thank you, but these facts would give too much away. He wanted to point out all the ways he treated Lydia herself like crap, but he figured that was probably none of his business.

“Well, one example would be when he yelled at my dad after the video store incident.” 

“Maybe he was just scared.”

 “Were you scared?” She didn’t say anything. “Exactly. Yet you managed to be polite.”

“Okay, that’s enough. You don’t know Jackson, and you don’t even really know me. We shouldn’t be having this conversation.”

The car was tense and quiet for a full mile or two. It wasn’t until they got to the last traffic light before the school that he decided he needed to say something incase he never got the chance to be alone with Lydia freaking Martin like this again.

They pulled up to a red light and Stiles turned to look at her. He was surprised that she looked back at him. “Can I just say one more thing, and then I’ll drop it because I’m realizing how lucky I am to even be in this crappy car with you right now on our way to our first high school dance?”

She didn’t say yes, but she didn’t say no either, and she kind of looked intrigued by what this idiot of a boy was going to say to her.

“You deserve better, okay? That’s it. I don’t want you to be pissed off at me all night, so just know that I think you should be with someone who really, really cares about you.”

Lydia didn’t respond, or even smile. She just turned back and stared straight ahead as he pulled into the parking lot. Stiles briefly wondered if he’d had a crush on an actual robot all of these years.

He found a close parking spot and tried to speed over before someone else grabbed it, grimacing at the loud sound the engine made as it tried its best to be fast. Just as he was about to pull in, already unbuckling his seat belt, he heard a soft voice speak from the passenger side. 

“I like the jeep.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“things you said but not out loud”

 

She wasn’t sure how much time had past before she started to freak out. It felt like five minutes. Maybe it was thirty seconds. Maybe it was less. 

She looked over at Isaac who was just staring at the tub, expressionless. Then she looked at Deaton, but he didn’t give anything away either. Isaac was a student following orders from his instructor; Deaton was a methodical doctor performing surgery, looking at his patient and the problem methodically; Lydia was a typhoon, her emotions swirling on the surface as she drowned under them.

“How long are they supposed to be under?”

Deaton didn’t look up. “Unfortunately there’s no exact science to human sacrifice rituals. We only know that the longer they are under, the more severe the consequences will be.”

She turned to Isaac, trying to silently convey how insane this all was, that they should do something to stop the mad scientist veterinarian who convinced them to assist with their friends’ suicides. But Isaac only looked at her, then back at the tub, and then back at her. 

“I’ll uh… go get some towels. Help them warm up once they’re… back.” Isaac coughed and walked out.

Deaton walked in front of the tubs, studying all three of them and writing down whatever miniscule observation he saw. Lydia tried to see what he was seeing, but all she could see was ice. Maybe she couldn’t bear to look closer for fear of seeing what lie underneath.

Eventually Deaton put his papers onto a table and made a makeshift desk. He checked his watch periodically and made notes. Isaac pulled a chair close to Allison’s tub and continued staring at it intently. Lydia didn’t move.

Hours went by. Deaton offered them food. Isaac got up to stretch. Lydia was unchanging.

“What do we do when they wake up?” she asked after one entire hour of silence.

“It will be like they’re waking up from a nap. There will be no need to do anything, except get them warm and dry.” 

“But… but you said we would need to pull them back.”

“Waking up today will be easy for them. They’ll know when their job is done, and they’ll have to rouse themselves awake like when they’re having a nightmare. But they won’t necessarily be _back_. You have to do that in the coming weeks, when the affect of today becomes apparent.”

“Why didn’t you teach us how to do that before they went under? We’ve never done this before. Why did you tell us to do this without giving us any kind of… I don’t know, training or something!” 

“I can’t train you on how to have a connection to someone,” he said in his usual patient, calm tone of voice. It had neither effect on Lydia at the moment.

Deaton saw this, and put his pen down to give her his full attention. “What do you do to make yourself understand Stiles? You two have solved mysteries together before. How do you communicate so well with him?” 

She threw her hands up. “I don’t know! We just…” She racked her brain for times when they understood each other, but her mind could only think of that day. “I don’t know how he guessed the significance of my drawings or why I could stop his panic attack. We don’t do anything!”

“Exactly, Lydia. It just happens. It’s who you are. It’s your relationship.”

“He’s just my friend,” she felt the need to say.

Deaton nodded, smiling, and turned back to his paperwork.

More hours ticked by. Isaac came back and sat in the chair again. It wasn’t until he told her that they were on hour eight that she took a few steps back to lean against the wall.

It was around hour nine that Lydia started to get scared about something else. She had been so focused on her job – how to pull him back, what she would do once they woke up – that she didn’t even think…

_What if they don’t wake up?_

These were three of the most important people in the world to her. Last year, she hadn’t even known them.

Now Allison was her best friend. They told each other secrets and went shopping and drove to school together. They cried together and laughed and borrowed each other’s make up. Allison was her sister. 

And Scott… he saved her. By letting her into his pack, she became a better person. He believed in her when no one else did. It was quiet and subtle, but he was her leader. She would never find a friend like him again.

Then there was Stiles… stupid, funny, maddening, selfless Stiles. She didn’t know what he was to her yet; they hadn’t had enough time. She needed more time with him.

Now she could possibly lose all three of them at once. She started to cry.

On the twelfth hour, Isaac got up and punched a wall. Lydia started pacing. Deaton stood in front of the tubs and studied them.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Lydia asked Isaac.

He looked at her like she was an idiot and gestured to the tubs. She let the look slide because they were all tired, and she didn’t think it was appropriate to call him a jackass in front of three dead people. 

“Yes, but I was the only one freaking out all night. You seemed fine. What changed?”

“I just didn’t think it would take this long.” He said it to her, but they both turned to look at Deaton for an answer.

“I wish I could give you any information that might help, but I know as much as you do at this time.”

 Isaac laughed once. “I’m really hoping that’s not true, because the two of us are pretty clueless right now. You’re the one calling the shots.”

“I only meant that there have been no changes. I know how to prepare for the ritual and what to do afterwards, but right now, with them like this, the three of us are stuck together like this. All we can do is wait.”

It was a weird notion, the three of them forced together. They didn’t have much in common, so it was silent most of the time. But Lydia _wanted_ to talk. She just knew Deaton wasn’t very chatty, and Isaac looked too angry for a heart to heart. 

She thought about the tether Deaton had mentioned earlier. She tried to visualize herself reaching out in her mind. She felt crazy and stupid, but she decided that was better than feeling sad and scared.

  _Stiles, can you hear me? It’s Lydia._

_This is probably a stupid idea. I just thought… I don’t know what Deaton meant by us having a strong connection, and I’m new to all this supernatural stuff. And maybe, I don’t know, Banshees have a stronger voice than others in this aspect too. See? I need you to come back to help me figure this out._

_Maybe I’m doing this more for myself. Even if it’s not working, it’s keeping me occupied for now. I haven’t left your side while you’ve been gone. If I make it seem like you’re just out of service or in surgery or something like that it isn’t as terrifying._

_We’re going on hour sixteen now. I know whatever the three of you are doing is going to save everyone. That’s what you do. And I know the reason this is taking so long is because you’re all so stubborn that you won’t come back until your job is done._

_But… if you need something to lead you back, or if it’s so dark over there that you get lost, maybe you can focus on my voice. Just think of me and my obnoxious scream and our connection and come back, okay?_

She walked away from the tub for the first time and sat near the door where Isaac and Deaton were. The three shared a look of worry, though no one voiced any concerns a loud as if saying the worst had happened meant that it really did.

Then something amazing happened. If Lydia weren’t there herself she wouldn’t have believed it. But they heard the surface of the water break. There was splashing and gasps of air. They were back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“things you said with clenched fists”

He was sitting on the couch flipping through the channels on the television in the living room when the doorbell rang. His body felt like it physically could not handle standing up and walking to the door and opening it and communicating with another human being, (traveling to another country to fight some berserkers will do that to a guy) so he leaned his head back and hoped that his dad would get it.

A few seconds passed and there was impatient banging on the door. He groaned, opened his eyes and walked to the door.

It was barely an inch open when whoever was on the other side pushed it open all the way.

“You son of a bitch!”

“Hey, Lydia,” he said, confused. He smiled at her but she glared back. “Uh… what’s up?”

She shoved him hard. “ _Mexico_?!”

He really didn’t know why she was so mad, and he got the feeling he shouldn’t try to lighten the mood, but that never stopped him before. “California?”

She shoved him again.

“What were you thinking? I was so worried, you idiot! Why didn’t you wait for me? All day I’ve been sick wondering what was happening!”

“Alright, just calm down, Lydia. Let’s talk, okay?”

“I don’t want to talk now! I wanted to talk to you all day, and now that you’re here and I see you’re alive… well, quite frankly, I just want to hit you.”

He wasn’t sure why, maybe it was because she was breathing so heavily as she looked up at him, or the way she genuinely seemed to think she could beat him up, but something about her anger made him smile, a mistake he realized instantly.

She went to shove him again but this time he caught her wrists. She pursed her lips and balled her hands up into little fists and pulled them free. “I really hate you right now, Stiles. You can’t just disappear like that.”

That kind of broke his heart a little, and he finally realized the extent of how much his friend was hurting.

“Okay, I get it. I should have called you earlier. I’m sorry for laughing.”

She considered his words. “And? What else are you sorry for? Leaving me behind?” 

“Uh… wha- what do you mean?” he asked, caught off guard.

“You left me behind today,” she said slowly, pausing between each word for effect. “I’m part of the pack, and you all went on your little mission without so much as a second thought about me!”

“Hey, hold up a minute. That’s quite an assumption to make, that we all just took off without bothering to invite you.”

“Well, that’s what happened, isn’t it?”

“No, it is not. As a matter of fact, you were the very first person I thought of before we left. I hesitated at first, saying I wouldn’t leave without you, but it was life or death and we had to go. And you know what? I’m glad about that. I’d leave you behind every time if I could.”

He didn’t know what made him say that, and judging by Lydia’s white knuckles, she didn’t understand -or like it- either. He decided to continue quickly before she could try to hit him again.

“Not in like, a mean way. God, I guess that didn’t sound the way I had meant for it to. It’s just… all this stuff,” he waved his arms around, “Isn’t safe. It isn’t what normal teenagers go through, and they shouldn’t be expected to. And I know you have your gift of seeing death, and it comes in handy every single time, but man, if I had it my way, you’d be at home, safely reading a book or solving some crazy mathematical theorem or something every time something dangerous happened.” 

Lydia stared at him for a while and then eventually cleared her throat awkwardly.

“Well… I suppose that’s a very good reason for leaving me behind.”

Stiles nodded. 

“Fine. I’m sorry I pushed you.” 

He smiled at her, and she turned to leave. Stiles was turning to go back inside when she spoke.

“You know, I wasn’t at home reading while you all were off in Mexico. I was at the school with Mason. We fought a berserker.” Stiles raised his eyebrows, impressed. “I used a baseball bat.”

With that, Lydia skipped down the steps and got in her car, leaving Stiles standing on his porch with his mouth hanging open.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“things you said when you were scared”

 

“Stiles,” she whispered. 

“What? What’s wrong?” he asked quickly, taken aback. They hadn’t spoken much that day. They actually hadn’t really spoken since she nearly died in his arms, and they both held each other for dear life until her mom insisted that she needed to go to bed, but hey, who was keeping track?

“Sh!” she said so loudly that nearly the entire police station turned to look at them sitting on the bench. They both smiled casually to everyone until they went back to work. Then Lydia turned to him, glaring and whispering, “If I had wanted everyone to hear, I wouldn’t have whispered.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, yes, I understand that, but I just…Never mind. What is it?”

She leaned in a little bit closer. “I, um… I think we need a plan for when we actually find Mason. When I was with the Argent’s the other day, I found out that some people are under the impression that I can defeat the Beast.”

Stiles looked down and saw that her fingers were nervously twirling one of her rings repeatedly and her left leg was tapping quickly against the floor. He realized Lydia Martin, Queen of Beacon Hills, the most popular girl at school, was scared. Terrified maybe. He reached over and put his hand on hers to stop it from fidgeting and left it there. “Hey, first of all, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I can’t let the whole down be destroyed. That’s what will happen if the Beast wins. He’ll kill everyone. That’s on me now.”

“It’s not on you. We’re a pack. Whatever you’re facing, we’re all facing. If you don’t want to take down a 10 foot monster, no one is going to think any less of you.”

She nodded, but the frown on her face was still there. He squeezed her hand gently. “But for what it’s worth, you _can_ do this, Lydia.” 

She shook her head quickly. “We need another plan. Remember when I told you that you always figure it out? Stiles, I meant it. So I’m asking you to figure this out, okay? If you can’t find any other solution, I will do my best to defeat the Beast. But please… _please_ find another solution.” 

His head was already going through a hundred back up plans and weighing their success rates, but the look on Lydia’s face brought him back. He just wanted to make her feel better.

“For what it’s worth, I could never do what you’re doing. I’d have left town weeks ago, changed my name, went into hiding.”

“Yes you could. You already did save the day. At Eichen House. You all saved me. I’m the one who gets rescued, not the one who does the rescuing.”

He barely let her get the sentence out before he spoke. “I’ve seen you do impossible things. You’re the smartest, strongest person I know. If someone asked me months ago who I thought would save all of our lives, I’d have said you, no questions. And now look at you. You’re more in control of your power. You’ve survived Eichen House and protected yourself against every threat in there. I’d bet on you saving the day every time.”

She bit her lip and looked down, smiling like she didn’t want anyone to see. He’d seen her do it a hundred times, but it never got old.

 

“See, there you go. You say stuff like that, and here, with you, I feel like I can actually do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are just a few more conversations I think could have happened off screen. I'm working on a multi-chapter fic right now, but I wanted to post something in the meantime while I finish that one up. Hope you like!


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